


Lifelong Entanglement

by ladyoneill



Series: Shadows Of The Moon: Full Moon Ficlets [38]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:16:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter understands what Stiles has yet to accept--that their lives are entwined forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifelong Entanglement

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fullmoon ficlet prompt "entangled". I actually didn't write anything the week before! I've been working on a couple other fics that had deadlines. Coming up on the busy time of year for me writingwise (lots of holiday challenges) but I hope to keep writing on this series. I appreciate all the comments.

While it's true that werewolves run a bit hotter than humans, they aren't immune to temperature changes, so, now that he no longer sleeps alone, Peter often finds himself waking up in the middle of the night chilled.

Somehow on most nights his mate manages to wrap the sheet and the blanket around himself, making a cocoon with just the top of his head showing.

Peter might find it cute, if Stiles didn't act like Peter losing the blankets was just one more thing he deserved for making them live together and share a bed. Every little thing that Peter finds annoying about him from his lack of a filter for his mouth, to his refusal to stop being friends with Scott, to his cutting remarks about every little thing that's different than his dad's house, Stiles latches onto as a way to punish him. Some days he seems to go out of his way to try to make Peter angry, and sometimes that makes him just want to put his bratty mate over his knee and spank the living daylights out of him.

But, no matter that they're into the second trimester and out of the normal dangerous times, the pregnancy is high risk. Stiles could miscarry so easily. Any physical violence could cause them to lose the cub. Peter can't risk that, so he bites back his anger and frustration, keeps his touches gentle, even during sex--which, because it actually relaxes Stiles rather than stresses him out, seems to be beneficial rather than potentially harmful--and reserves his violent impulses to daily runs through the Preserve and training his Betas.

A breeze from the open window hits his naked back--Stiles insists on fresh air even with it being barely March--and Peter shivers, then reaches out and snags a looser corner of the blanket up near his mate's head. With a jerk, he unrolls him, pulling the cover over himself, and Stiles wakes, flailing, suddenly sprawled across Peter.

"What are you doing?" he asks crossly, trying to squirm away.

"I'm cold." Peter easily pins him to his chest, locks his arms behind the small of Stiles' back, tangles their legs together beneath the warm blanket.

"Let go."

Peter turns them onto their sides but doesn't release him, and Stiles' constant wriggling begins to arouse him. Burying his nose in his mate's neck, he takes a deep breath, scenting him and the cub, and his hands find Stiles' hips, tighten.

The boy stills, not even breathing, and in the dim light of the moon shining through the open window, their eyes meet--his amber ones confused; Peter's crimson ones hungry. "I don't want..."

"Liar."

That lie is proven when their lips meet and Stiles responds without any hesitation. 

Later they lie beneath only the tangled, sweaty sheet, the blanket long lost to the floor. Peter holds Stiles close, head on his chest, hand stroking down his quivering back. They're both warm now, and drowsy.

But then his young mate lifts his head and glowers. "You could have just asked for part of the blanket."

"We're going to be together for the rest of our hopefully very long lives," Peter replies, too relaxed to get angry. "You need to learn to share this bed. If you're cold, I'm perfectly willing to wrap myself around you."

"I don't need you suffocating me."

"We both just had endorphin rich orgasms, Stiles. Stop trying to piss me off; it's not going to work."

The glower turns to a pout and Stiles makes one more attempt to pull away, then surrenders with a huge sigh and digs his chin just a tad more forcefully than necessary into Peter's shoulder, before relaxing again.

Choosing to be amused--because the pleasure from the orgasm is still rolling through him--Peter huffs and kisses the top of his head. 

"You're sweaty and sticky."

"So are you. Stop bitching and go to sleep."

Stiles huffs this time, but his arm does creep across Peter's stomach, wrapping them closer together, and his foot does rub against his. The little bump of their cub is pressed to Peter's side and now that Stiles is quieting, he can hear its heartbeat, fast and sure, even as Stiles' is slowing with approaching sleep.

Closing his eyes, Peter lets himself drift to the reassuring sound, knowing he'll never be alone.

End


End file.
